


Herman Granger

by Duke157



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Admiration, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Child Prodigy, Crossdressing out of necessity, Early1900s!AU, F/F, Lesbian Character, Love, Mathematicians, Prodigy, Professor Hermione Granger, Romance, Ron just makes a minor cameo, Self-Discovery, Set just before World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duke157/pseuds/Duke157
Summary: Charles Granger was a learned man, but he was no prodigy – he was just learned enough to recognize that his daughter was one. And he knew that the people of the late 19th century would never recognize it too if they saw her as a woman.





	1. The Enthusiastic Student

Charles Granger was a learned man – he had come from a reasonably well-off family, who had ensured that he received a decent education and a good wife. He earned enough to put a roof over his family and maintain a respectable standing in his society – which was a lot to ask for in the late 19th century.

Charles Granger was a learned man, but he was no prodigy – he was just learned enough to recognize that his daughter was one.

When his construction company offered to move his family to Cambridge, he saw his chance; he took his daughter to the barber shop, had her long curly mane chopped off, and instructed that from that day forth she was to live her life as a man.

Because he knew how much more difficult it would be for his daughter to follow her dreams, if the world saw her as a woman. And he knew how much she loved mathematics – in the six years he's known her, not a day had gone by where he wouldn't find her in front of a mathematics book.

So, Hermione Granger had hidden herself away, and Herman Granger became one of the youngest members of the Cambridge University Mathematics Department; busied in Riemann's ideas of prime numbers and the complex vector spaces which could be used in number theory. No one but Charles, his wife, and Hermione, privy to the truth.

* * *

Hermione struggled with the huge stack of papers in her hands as she tried to muscle her way into her office. Despite repeated complaints, the carpenter refused to mend her door – the hinge was so tight that it seemingly required the strength of a burly sailor just to open it. Somehow, she managed to shove it open this time without dropping more than ten papers.

A student standing nearby rushed over and assisted her with the fallen papers.

"Good day, Professor Granger, sir." He uttered with a smile; before rushing back to his fellow classmates.

Hermione sighed and strode back into her office. Despite having lived with it for most of her life, she still questioned her father's decision from time to time.

The mathematician in her certainly appreciated it – she knew she would never have achieved what she had as a woman. Her talents would've been ignored, and she would've been forced to become someone's housewife – spending her days measuring how much of a cup of sugar she would need for dinner, or counting how many children she would need to birth to satisfy her husband.

She had never faced any trouble in disguising herself as a man. Her overachieving brain had derailed her from the regular path of a student  _"because the field of mathematics needed her"_ , as her primary mathematics teacher had put it. Puberty had never quite graced her body – her breasts hadn't developed beyond half a handful and the contour of her hips was so slight that nobody noticed. She presented herself like an unathletic, introverted, genius who wouldn't spare a thought for anything that didn't help her field of study.

And everyone readily believed that.

But she always wondered – how would her life have turned out if she had spent more time outside her world of numbers? What would it have been like to be a maiden searching for love? How would she have lived her life as a woman?

She quelled these questions by reasoning that she would've wondered about her life choices either way. And with that, her days go by without consequence.

* * *

An hour later, Hermione was busy tackling a complex equation when her door swung open forcefully, startling her out of her reverie. She quickly jotted her thoughts in a sheet of paper so she could resume her work afterwards.

"Sorry, Professor Granger. The… door was jammed."

A young woman stumbled into the cozy room; Hermione recognized her as Daphne Greengrass, a student in one of her classes – one of the few female students enrolled in this institute. She wasn't a child prodigy like Hermione; no, she merely a girl who was lucky enough to be born to some Earl or Marquess.

Hermione couldn't decide whether to envy her because she could be herself and have the mathematical training that Hermione had; or pity her because nobody would take her seriously for it.

Instead, she just maintained her stoic composure and mumbled out. "Yes, miss Greengrass?"

Hermione watched as the younger woman took a seat in front of her. "Professor Granger, I… over the recent few months, I have been fascinated by your work in the field of Number Theory and I… would like to express my desire to continue studying under your tutelage."

Hermione was taken aback by the girl's request. Having been a professor at Cambridge for merely two years, no student had approached her for any sort of project yet. If she was being honest, she hadn't even considered that as a possibility.

Watching her professor's surprised expression, Daphne slowly arose from her seat. "Professor, I know this seems to come out of the blue, and I know I haven't necessarily been the most attentive student in your lectures. Howbeit, please consider me for the role. I promise to do my best to uphold your caliber of excellence." She excused herself and exited from the room, leaving a dumbfounded Hermione Granger in her wake.

Hermione sat rigidly in her seat for what felt like fifteen minutes; fortunately, Daphne had approached her in the evening – Hermione needn't worry about missing her lectures.

She knew she could refuse to tutor Daphne and the institute would understand. She was a new professor and far younger than most others. The institute would allow some laxity in their rules for her. Furthermore, Hermione had overheard from her fellow coworkers that the institute usually overlooks refusals to female students; they were expected to be married off to some other nobleman's son when they come of age.

But she also knew she couldn't dispel her duties entirely; she knew a day would come where she had to take in a protégé.

And she felt a pang in her heart at the thought of refusing Daphne. She couldn't feel pity for the girl, and then ignore it when she has a chance to make right of the situation.

She spent a few more hours contemplating her decision, her complex equations forgotten as she weighed the positives and negatives of taking in Daphne time and time again. Most importantly, she worried about her true identity. She had never been in a situation where she had to work in close quarters with a person for a long time, besides her parents. To this day, her father was the only one who maintained a regular communication with her; despite having moved away since she joined the institute. Her mother had passed away eleven years ago, when she was fourteen.

* * *

After a good night's sleep and a morning of lectures and seminars; Hermione had come to a decision. And after her last lecture of the day, she requested Daphne to stay behind.

Once the rest of the students had dispersed, Hermione led the younger woman to her office.

"Sit down."

Daphne nervously settled into the seat, never quite relaxing into it either as she rippled in anticipation.

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled. "After much consideration, I've decided to allow you to… contribute to my research. B-"

"Thank You! Thank you so much! I was so worried when I heard that Professors do not undertake women. I…" Daphne's words petered out as her eyes met Hermione's unimpressed stare. "I'm sorry, Professor." She murmured as Hermione continued.

Hermione tried her best to seem as stern and professor-like as she could manage. "Miss Greengrass, I empathize with the issues you might face with some other professors; but I have no intention to uphold such practices. Like anyone else who might wish to contribute, you must prove that you are truly willing to work with utmost dedication. I will be observing you for the following few months."

Daphne's voice now held a certain zeal that was missing in all her previous interactions, but she managed to keep herself from getting too excited. "I will, Professor Granger. Thank you."

"I will instruct you to research certain topics in the coming days. Please present any ideas you might have about anything related to Number Theory; my door is open on most evenings." Hermione concluded. "You may leave now, Miss Greengrass."

Hermione felt a weight lift off her shoulders as the girl exited from her office; though she didn't understand why she tensed up to begin with.

When she sent a telegram to her father telling him of her decision; her father spent most of the telegram back warning her to remain careful with her identity, not to disclose her secret to the world. Finally, at the very bottom, he added in a small note of congratulations for the achievement.

* * *

Daphne visited Hermione in her office nearly twice a week. At first, most of the problems she presented to Hermione were quite simple; predominantly hypotheses of slightly lesser known theories that had already been proved. Despite the lack of results, Hermione could see her intent to work for the field. Daphne put forth a decent effort to bettering herself, and Hermione knew enough to appreciate effort over talent, despite having a lot of talent herself.

As time passed, she had heard whispers of her male name and Daphne being mentioned in the same sentence; especially outside her office immediately following a discussion session. She chose to ignore them as they served no purpose, and instructed Daphne to do the same.

* * *

A few weeks after they started working together, one of the younger professors – Ronald Weasley from the Physics department, approached her on the courtyard outside the library.

"Good day, Professor Granger."

"Good day, Professor Weasley. Anything I can do for you?" Hermione mumbled.

"Professor Williamson was saying something odd – that you've taken that Earl's daughter, Daphne under your tutelage." He questioned.

"Yes, I have."

"Did she have her father threaten you?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon, Professor."

"I harbor no ill-intent, Herman. It just seems a little odd that you would pick such a student as your protégé. In two years' time, she will be married to some rich bloke and become the Marchioness of some state. Why waste your time with her? It is a pointless exercise. Unless…"

Hermione eyed him with a confused glare. She did not appreciate his views on this topic already, but she kept quiet as she wanted to figure out what else people thought of her decision.

When Hermione didn't seem to pick up on what he was insinuating, Ronald continued. "Unless you are interested in her… romantically."

"Preposterous! The nerve of you to suggest such a thing, Mr. Weasley. I have nothing but the most noble of intentions towards all of my students; men or women. One of my student approached me with pure educational intentions, and I chose to accommodate her after I witnessed her growing interest in the subject. How dare you taint that with blasphemous accusations such as this?" Hermione roared.

Ronald Weasley backed away slowly while apologizing; clearly afraid of her despite being far taller and stronger than her. After another harsh glare, Hermione stormed back to her office, leaving a terrified Ronald Weasley and a bunch of stunned onlookers in her wake.

The whispers of  _'Herman and Daphne'_  disappeared after that day; instead being replaced by harrowing tales of how one should never anger Professor Granger. Having never felt any more ferocious than a newborn kitten her whole life, Hermione couldn't bring herself to correct these whispers. She also couldn't bring herself to wipe the smile off her face every time she heard them.

* * *

Slowly, the amount of time they spent together increased as Daphne started getting better at her work. Hermione hadn't realized how much time they spent together until one week where the girl had spent every evening in her office, even over the weekend. And while she could've justified it from her side as progress in mathematics; she couldn't think of any justification from Daphne's perspective.

One day, she decided to question the girl about it.

"Daphne?"

"Yes, prof?" Daphne turned her eyes away from the chalkboard covered in calculations.

"Pardon me for asking you this in this manner, do you not have… friends? You spend an absurd amount of time in my office, for a student." Hermione prodded.

Daphne stood up slowly with a troubled expression on her face. "A-Am I unwanted here, sir?"

"No, of course not, Daphne; you are very much welcome here. I was merely asking a question. It just seemed surprising since you did hang around with your mates when you had approached me; and you do not seem to do that anymore. I hope I had nothing to do with that."

"I-I…" Daphne stuttered.

"Daphne, am I the reason you do not speak to your friends anymore?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes." Daphne mumbled out softly.

"Why?"

"They were not respectful towards you." Daphne complained.

"As a professor, I have come to terms with the fact that there will always be a small group of my students who will detest me despite my best efforts to appease them. And you have to as well." Hermione reasoned.

"They didn't attack your teaching methods, they attacked your identity; calling you girly and awkward looking."

Hermione's heart started racing when she heard this; and she only managed to get it under control when she reasoned to herself that they referred to her mannerisms as  _'girly'_ , and didn't imply that she was actually a girl.

"As I said – there will be some people who detest me."

"That does not imply that I should be friends with them."

Hermione couldn't retort to that; and they dropped the discussion there.

With neither of them having any friends, Hermione and Daphne spent almost all of their time together – even eating meals together, usually involved in a discussion about some problem they were tackling earlier that day.

* * *

Daphne's efforts were slowly gaining recognition with the mathematics department as well; and finally, nine months into their arrangement, the Cambridge mathematics department offered her to continue working with Hermione after her studies as a regular student have ended. Eventually she would become a professor like Hermione.

Of course, all of this was offered under the condition that she could convince her father.

Daphne chose to ignore that condition for the evening, as Hermione decided they could celebrate the evening with some quality wine.

They trudged up to Hermione's relatively small house just outside the campus premises and popped the bottle open.

They spent the who evening talking about everything but mathematics – from the passing of Hermione's mother to Daphne's life as an Earl's daughter. But Hermione always made sure she never allowed her most guarded secret to escape her; no matter how much wine she drank.

They had a short dinner and then settled back into a comfortable silence. Suddenly, Daphne turned to Hermione and stared at her.

"I like you, Professor." Daphne muttered in her drunken stupor, immediately causing Hermione to sober up.

Daphne continued, unshaken by her drinking partner's reaction. "I was always attracted to your intelligence, so I decided to become closer to you by becoming your protégé. Somewhere along the way, I started to enjoy your work as much as I enjoyed being with you. But, I still like you more than anyone else; more than ever before."

Hermione remained frozen in her seat, giving Daphne the opportunity to lean over and plant a smooch on her cheek.

"I'll sleep on the couch for the night, Professor. I do not think I will be able to safely make my way back to my room." Daphne rose up from her spot on the floor, strode over to Hermione's couch, and collapsed onto it in a drunken mess.

Hermione still hadn't moved since she felt Daphne's soft lips on her cheek. Slowly, she raised her hand up to her cheek and caressed it; as if to preserve the warmth left behind.

Unable to comprehend what to do about the kiss, Hermione crawled into her bed and attempted to fall asleep. But thoughts of the kiss and its implications invaded her mind. She worried about Daphne's reaction if she came to know of her secret; about Ronald Weasley's comments many months ago; about how Daphne's father – the Earl of Kimberley, would react; about how her own father would react; and about the fact that she may or may not have liked the kiss.

As sleep finally took over her mind nearly an hour later, she realized that she had completely overlooked the detail that they both were women.


	2. The Fallout

Daphne began to avoid her from the following morning – she stopped visiting Hermione's office in the evenings, instead leaving her work on Hermione's desk while she was at lectures; Hermione couldn't find Daphne in the hallways or at the lunch hall; even their usual table at the Library now lay empty, gathering dust.

For a moment, Hermione considered barging into her room, until she recalled that she was supposed to be a man; and her professor.

Instead, she decided to call off one of her lectures and ambush Daphne outside of her Calculus class. Her students rejoiced as she was not known for falling ill very often or being overly lenient; not since the incident with Professor Weasley.

Daphne tried to sidle out behind some of her mates, until she caught Hermione's eyes following her intently. Hermione glared at her until she stepped out of the crowd, conceding defeat.

* * *

Hermione studied Daphne as they stood across from each other in her office – Daphne's eyes stayed transfixed on her toes; her fingers violently fiddling with the hem of her shirt; shoulders hunched and knees quivering nervously. Hermione couldn't decide what to make of this situation; she had never contemplated about falling in love with someone, not beyond the mere idea of it.

"Professor." Daphne spoke up when Hermione failed to do so for a few tense moments. Hermione's eyes shot to attention at her student's words.

"Professor… I-I would appreciate it if… if we could just f-forget this whole ordeal." Daphne's face held an inscrutable expression; her eyes darting across the room, searching for any place to look at aside from her professor.

Unable to say anything, Hermione stood rooted to her spot.

Daphne swallowed the lump in her throat, before rushing out of the room in a haste; tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.

Hermione couldn't explain the pang she felt in her heart as she watched Daphne's receding form.

* * *

Daphne returned the following afternoon with a smile on her face, and it seemed everything had returned to normal once again. Hermione didn't know whether that was a good thing; but she didn't force the subject.

But it wasn't long before the cracks began to emerge in their newfound tranquility. Hermione could barely trace the awkward pauses and the aversion to Hermione's touch; she also realized how much she knew about Daphne's minute quirks and tendencies.

* * *

Later that evening, Daphne mumbled out some excuse about  _'spending some time with her roommate'_  to avoid dinner with her professor; leaving Hermione to eat alone at their table in the dining hall.

She stared at her porridge in silence; perhaps it could explain to her what seemed so natural for everyone else.

Hermione felt a hand clap on her shoulder, startling her. "Glare at it for another moment and you might bore a hole right through it, Herman."

Hermione eyed Professor Weasley suspiciously as he settled into the seat across from her with his plate of chicken. "Can I help you, Professor?"

All the mirth drained from his eyes, as his jolly expression morphed into something akin to guilt.

"I heard about Miss Greengrass's offer and I… would like to formally apologize, for my behavior those many months ago. I was out of line to suggest such a thing without knowledge about either of you."

Hermione studied the man for any trace of insincerity, before her lips curved up into a light smile. "Apology accepted… Ronald."

He smiled back, and the pair ate in silence for rest of their meal.

Just before they stood to leave, Hermione asked. "Ronald… do you know how it feels to fall in love with someone?"

"Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"I have never felt that before… and I was wondering how it felt."

He paused, considering his response. Hermione panicked internally as the space between them held an inscrutable tension.

"There was this girl back when I was at Cambridge myself – country lass, her father didn't come from much money. She lived just outside of the campus and I would wander by her father's store every time me and my mates went out for a game of football. I would excuse myself for a drink of water and spend some time in their store, just watching her out front, scrubbing the windows or caring for her old grandmother. A few months later, her father married her off to some bloke from London. Never saw her again." He explained.

Hermione stared at him with mellow eyes, completely engrossed in his sad tale. After a long period of silence, Hermione murmured. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head as his usual cheery smile returned to replace the dejected frown. They parted ways shortly afterwards.

* * *

Two weeks passed by as Hermione observed Daphne's growing comfort in their new routine; they haven't yet dined at the same table, but every morning is closer to their new version of normalcy than the previous.

The prospect unnerved Hermione to no bound.

Ronald occasionally stopped by her table once or twice a week; although none of their following conversations were as impassioned as their first two. The discussions stayed firmly on the topic of Ronald's latest game of cricket against one or the other of the departments. Unable to change the topic of their discussion; Hermione could only listen, speaking only to decline his repeated attempts to convince her to join.

* * *

Hermione had spent nearly an entire day rephrasing the telegram she would send to her father in London, elaborating on her newfound subject of interest. Ultimately, she settled on absolute honesty; it had never failed her in her previous discussions with her father.

Her father took much longer to respond than usual; Hermione felt herself fall deeper into paranoia with every passing minute. Her mind conjured up a myriad of scenarios; predominantly those which ended with her disownment or facing some form of punishment.

His response, however, focused on something completely different. Her father's telegram was filled with applauding compliments on her devotion to this lie she had been living – he spoke about the fears she alleviated and wondered about all the doors this opened for her.

Hermione had finally realized how much of himself, her father had devoted to her dream – in his quest to make her a successful mathematician, he had given up his ability to see the world without their lie.

He ended the note with a short warning, reiterating the importance of hiding the truth from everyone else, and urging to ascertain that Daphne was trustworthy enough to fill the role. Hermione couldn't place the wetness that had welled up in her eyes as she finished reading the telegram.

Her thoughts kept her awake well into the darkest hours of the night; she tossed about, unable to will herself to sleep, unwilling to keep herself awake. She missed her morning lectures the following day.

* * *

The worry in Hermione's heart had reached a breaking point three weeks later, when Daphne finally gathered the courage to join Hermione for dinner. The aghast expression that developed on Hermione's face remained throughout their short meal; as Daphne desperately attempted to fill the silence with random ramblings about student gossip.

On impulse, Hermione grabbed Daphne's hand as she turned to leave. Almost immediately, Daphne tried to wrench her hand away, but Hermione merely tightened her grip.

"Ms. Gre-… Daphne, I… would you please follow me. I believe we have something to discuss."

Her eyes trained on the back of Daphne's head, studying every minute detail – to a second, Hermione could decipher exactly when Daphne finally resigned to her fate. She wondered what else had she noticed in the months they spent together.

"Daphne… I am not aware of how I must preface this – I have never been in such a situation and I just couldn't... I… I want to tell you that I am just as enchanted by you as you are by me."

The change in Daphne's demeanor was immediate, the expression that marred her face was a mix of befuddlement, shock, hope, and happiness. The pool of dread in Hermione's stomach disappeared for a fraction of second, just until she realized what else must be done.

Hermione was broken out of her reverie when Daphne engulfed her in a tight embrace. She allowed herself a moment of peace – one she understood would be her last for at least a month, maybe even more – before she softly pushed Daphne away from her.

"T-There is something else…" She mumbled.

The confusion slowly creeped back onto Daphne's elated face; as the dread pooled back into Hermione's stomach with a renewed intensity.

"Do you recall your former mates' remarks about my less than manly physique?"

Daphne's expression turned foul, but she nodded wordlessly.

"Those remarks were… are not unfounded."

"Professor, I care not for your physical appearance; I-"

Hermione interjected while she still possessed the courage. "I am a woman."

Daphne stilled in her spot. "Professor… W-What do you-"

"Daphne, I am a woman, living my life as a man." She paused as she let Daphne soak up her words. "My… real name is Hermione."

Daphne promptly rushed out her office once again; her expression lingering in Hermione's mind as she attempted to decipher whether it was of perplexment or disgust. She flumped down onto her chair, distressed; her pending research lay unfinished on her desk.

* * *

Like all the other times Daphne had sprinted from her office, she didn't return the following day; or even the following week. Hermione understood that it wasn't something that could be hurried; but the wait unnerved her just the same.

But she had little time to spend on her faltering romance; for the turn of the week brought terrible news – a telegram had arrived from her father's construction company; a poorly constructed building had crumbled under its own weight, killing everyone inside and in the adjacent construction site.

Her father didn't make it.

Hermione haphazardly stuffed her suitcase with a few articles of clothing and boarded the first train to London.

* * *

They couldn't recover much of her father's body from the rubble, but they knew enough to confirm he had passed. Hermione reclused herself from that moment onwards – she hardly left her father's home, wouldn't eat until her neighbor forced the food into her mouth, and never spoke to anyone.

She even forgot to maintain her façade, a fact she realized when one of the kids who lived downstairs called her 'miss'.

The community arranged a mass funeral for the victims, at their local church; but Hermione didn't know if she could will herself to go. She sat on the floor of her father's living room; eyes trained on the black suit laid out in front of her, occasionally darting to her father's antique grandfather clock while she counted down the seconds in her head.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a feminine body collided with her own, knocking her backwards. Arms wrapped around her tightly as she heard reassuring words being whispered in her ear. The words didn't mean much to her; but the familiar, soothing voice did more to calm her than anything anyone else could've done.

For the first time since she heard about the accident, Hermione let the tears flow from her eyes, into the shoulder of Daphne's cardigan. Twenty minutes later, Hermione was finally ready to accept what she had been denying for the past few days. She picked up the suit and turned to the guest bedroom.

As Daphne arose to leave, Hermione grabbed her hand. Daphne could barely trace the tiny shake of Hermione's head; but she couldn't find it in herself to deny that request.

Daphne sat on the edge of the bed as Hermione quietly stripped out of her clothes and donned her suit. Daphne's chauffeur had driven down to the tailor to purchase a black gown that Daphne could wear atop her clothes.

* * *

Throughout the ceremony, Hermione couldn't bring herself to let go of Daphne's hand.

They returned to Hermione's father's home, so she could gather somethings she could remember him by, before they returned to Cambridge.

Daphne escorted Hermione up to her bed; unsure if she was strong enough to make her way back by herself, unwilling to risk that she might not be. As she sat by the bed waiting for Hermione to fall asleep, Daphne recalled the last time she had stayed back at her Professor's place.

She had unintentionally started a chain of events that concluded with the discovery that the 'man' she thought would be knight in shining armor, was actually a woman in disguise.

She heard a soft whisper coming from the bed.

"Stay."

Daphne knew she could do nothing to refuse her Professor; her mind was clear of doubt.

"Goodnight, Professor... Hermione."

The last thing Hermione remembered before she fell asleep was the soft feeling of her student's lips on her forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> The final chapter will be up soon.


End file.
